


The Life and Times of Agent Carter

by indiefic



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, Steve isn't dead, They found Steve quick, alternate Season 1 of Agent Carter, death of a child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-23 10:11:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4872844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indiefic/pseuds/indiefic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate Agent Carter Season One, where Steve isn’t dead, but everything is still completely broken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is what it says, a redux of AC:S1, only with Steve. So a lot of the dialog and plot points are just like they were only the show, with minor tweaks to accommodate Steve and explain how he’s there. And also a significant subplot with Peggy and Steve’s personal dynamics. But overall, there’s a whole lot of tl;dr of the actual episodes. Unfortunately, Jarvis and Angie's characters have been pared back a bit to accommodate Steve's inclusion. Something had to give. Sorry.

**April 1946**

**New York**

 

Daniel never knew quite how to respond to the minor celebrity status his war injury afforded him when he was discharged.  Mostly, it made him uncomfortable.  It used to make him really uncomfortable.  But then he met Peggy Carter and Steve Rogers, and saw just how messed up celebrity could be.  He’d never been so thankful to be mostly anonymous.

 

Daniel had heard the Captain America Adventure Program on the radio, just like everyone else, but now he switched it off.  The idea of Peggy and Rogers carrying on like Betty Carver and Cap on the show was absurd.  Daniel didn’t know if maybe there used to be something between them, or if it was all just completely fabricated.  He sort of assumed the latter.  Peggy and Rogers were ... civil.  Sometimes they were friendly, but more than often, they just didn’t react to one another at all.  Both of them were so closed off, so private that it was hard to imagine them with anyone, least of all each other.  

 

Daniel could only guess at how much they both hated that radio show.

 

“Hey, Marge,” Jack shouted across the bullpen, “I need a file pulled.”

 

Daniel watched as Peggy crossed the room to Jack, smiling tightly.  “And here I thought you were more than familiar with pulling things all by yourself,” she said.  Jack frowned at her, handing her a scrap of paper.  She took it and walked off, muttering _“wanker_ ,” under her breath.

 

Daniel had to agree with her assessment.  Jack was an okay guy, but he gave Peggy hell.  At least he’d backed off a bit.  When she first started, there had been a lot of Captain America jabs and Betty Carver jokes.  But when Rogers got reassigned right after the first of the year, all of that stopped.  Not that Rogers was around a whole lot.  They saw him maybe once a week.  He was out on assignment most of the time.  But you never knew when he was going to turn up.  Jack had toned it down as soon as Rogers made it clear he didn’t think those jokes were funny.

 

Peggy walked by, carrying a file box, and Daniel immediately got to his feet.  “You need help?”

 

She looked at him, giving him a soft smile.  “Thank you, Daniel, but I can manage.”

 

He followed her back to her desk, watching as she sorted through the box.  She pulled out the folders Jack needed and replaced the lid on the box.  Daniel screwed up his courage.  “Uh, Li and I,” he started, feeling like an idiot.  “We’re gonna grab a drink after work tonight.  You interested?”

 

“In a drink?” she asked.  “God, yes.  I could use a stiff one right now.”

 

Daniel swallowed thickly.  “So, uh,” he fumbled, “uh, we’re just gonna head down around six.  That work for you?”

 

“It certainly does, Daniel,” she said.  “Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

 

Daniel felt like he shouldn’t have been shocked, but he kinda was.  Carter could drink like a fish.  And swear like a sailor.  And he was pretty sure she could make a living as a card sharp if the SSR ever booted her out.  She had no tells.  It was uncanny.

 

So the quick drink turned into quite the outing.  Carter found a table in a dark, smoky corner and proceeded to take everyone’s money, though she did it with enough charm that she managed to leave their pride in tact.

 

Daniel didn’t know when Jack and Rogers showed up.  It looked like they’d been there for a while by the time he noticed them.  Jack would occasionally glance over in their direction, but Rogers mostly seemed to be ignoring them, nursing a scotch.

 

Li stared over at their booth.  “I guess I never imagined Captain America in a bar,” he said, frowning.

 

Carter snorted.  

 

“What was that?” Daniel asked.

 

She looked up, expression innocent.  “Pardon?”

 

Daniel narrowed his eyes at her, but she just stared back.  No tells.  She was a tricky one.

 

Li eventually had to head home.  He had a wife and a couple of kids.  Daniel stayed.  He didn’t have anywhere to be.

 

Eventually the evening wound down.

 

“Daniel,” Peggy said.  “I really appreciate your invitation this evening.  It was a welcome change of pace.”

 

“Sure thing,” he said.  “Let me walk you out.”

 

The air outside was a shock to the system.  He hadn’t realized quite how much he’d had to drink.  Carter seemed steady on her feet, but Daniel suspected that even if she was completely plastered, he wouldn’t know.

 

“You gotta car?” he asked.

 

“Ah, no,” she admitted.  “I take the train.”

 

He looked around.  “I’m not sure it’s running this late.  Let me call you a cab.”

 

She shook her head. “It’s alright, Daniel, really.  I can walk.”

 

“Are you nuts?” he asked.

 

She frowned at him.  “Daniel, I served in the war.  I am more than capable of walking myself home.  Thank you for the offer though.  You should leave before I reevaluate how enjoyable the evening was.  I don’t need you, or anyone else, to protect me.”

 

He wanted to say something, he really did.  But he knew she wasn’t bluffing.  If he screwed this up here, that was it.  He shrugged.  “Okay,” he said.  “See you on Monday.”

 

She gave him a smile and leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek.  “Goodnight, Daniel.”

 

* * *

 

 

She walked down the sidewalk, wrapping the coat more tightly around her body.  Despite the large amount of alcohol she had consumed, the cold was still biting, even in April.  She finally stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and sighed.  “I didn’t need Daniel to walk me home and I bloody well don’t need you to walk me home either.”

 

Steve finally stopped lurking and stood next to her.  “I was going this way.”

 

She glowered at him.  “Brooklyn is over there,” she said, pointing.

 

Despite her object lesson, he did not look towards Brooklyn.  He was staring at her.  She finally had to look away.  She proceeded down the sidewalk.

 

This time he didn’t even bothered trying to be subtle.  He walked right next to her, hands in his pockets, his frown so intense she was afraid he was going to hurt himself.

 

“Go away, Steve,” she snapped.  She needed him to leave.  She needed him to leave now.  Because if he stayed she was going to do something or say something she was going to regret.  And she already had more than enough regrets.

 

She marched toward the tiny little apartment she shared with Colleen, but the combination of booze and a patch of ice were her downfall, literally.  Her heel skidded out from under her and she would have taken a nasty tumble, except for the fact that Steve was there.  He caught her.  

 

She was there, in his arms, staring up at him, breathing hard, full to the brim with regret and anger.  Slowly, he straightened her up, making sure she was steady on her feet.  He was still far too close and his hands were still on her arms.

 

She stared down at her feet.  “Please leave,” she whispered.  “ _Please_.”

 

He sighed and released her, but rather than leaving, he tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and started off down the sidewalk.  “Saw Dugan yesterday,” he said conversationally.  “He asked about you.  Said to remind you that if you want a spot in the 107th, he’ll crack heads and make it happen.  But consider yourself warned, he’ll find some horrible codename for you.”

 

She sniffled, ever so grateful for his chivalry.  Damn him.  

 

Her apartment was not nearby, so they spent a lot of time making idle chitchat.  It wasn’t comfortable, exactly, but it made the hard little knot in the center of her chest uncurl just a bit.  Which, really, just made things worse.

 

He finally stopped in front of her apartment building.  She looked up at it and laughed mirthlessly.  “Dare I ask why you know where I live?”

 

“You know exactly why I know where you live,” he said evenly.

 

She screwed her eyes shut.  She wasn’t anywhere near drunk enough for this conversation.  Oh, what the hell.  “Li said tonight that he never imagined Captain America in a pub.  I refrained from telling him what we did the last time we were in a pub together.  Though I suppose it was probably Christmas that did it.  Oh, the irony.”

 

He looked down at her.  “Why are you doing this, Peggy?”

 

“To torture myself,” she said flatly, staring at the building.  “And maybe you too.”

 

He sighed, sounding so very tired.  “What’s up with you and Sousa?”

 

She shook her head.  “Nothing.”

 

“But he ... wants?”

 

She shrugged.  “Perhaps.  It doesn’t matter.  I’m damaged goods.  Daniel may not be Captain America, but deserves more too.”

 

He squeezed her hand, but said nothing.  They’d had this argument too many times to count.  “Peggy I just don’t understand - “

 

“Please,” she said sharply.  “Please don’t.”

 

He was breathing hard, but he finally shook his head and released her hand.  “Be careful, okay?” he said.

 

She nodded.  She couldn’t look at him.  She walked inside, knowing he wouldn’t leave until she did.  How the hell did she get in this mess?

 

END CHAPTER


	2. Chapter 2

Howard’s supposed treason was all over the newspapers, as was the implosion at Roxxon.  So far, no one in the SSR was putting the pieces together.  It helped that Krzeminski was an idiot.

 

Peggy could have killed Howard for being ... Howard.  For creating a vault full of horrors and then allowing them to be stolen.  But the truth was, she had been so damn grateful when he showed up and needed her help.  He was an idiot, but she so desperately needed his trust and confidence in her abilities.  Mr. Jarvis, Howard’s intrepid butler was a bit more problematic.  Howard had no trouble tasking her and disappearing.  Mr. Jarvis had the annoying habit of ... being there.

 

Peggy looked down at the advertisement Angie had handed her.  Considering how abysmally things had fared with Colleen, Peggy knew this was a terrible idea.  Colleen died for the simple crime of being Peggy’s friend, offering her shelter when she was in need.  Colleen wasn’t part of Peggy’s world.  Peggy had never opened up to her, never shared her secrets.  She’d done everything she could to keep Colleen in the dark, but all to no avail.

 

If Peggy moved into the Griffith, she would be putting Angie and the rest of the women at risk.  She sat there in the L&L Automat, staring at her coffee when someone came to stand next to her booth.  She didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

 

“May I?”

 

She motioned to the empty seat opposite her.  Steve sat down, his hands clasped together on the tabletop.  She looked at him and he looked back.  Out of nowhere, Angie appeared, eyes wide.  “Can I, uh, get ya somethin’?”

 

“Uh ... coffee,” Steve said with a smile.

 

Angie smiled back in a daze.  Peggy rolled her eyes, rubbing her forehead.  She didn’t mind Angie making eyes at Captain America.  Steve was single, so far as she knew.  She just didn’t look forward to the grilling she was going to get later from Angie.

 

“So, are you going to tell me how you managed to blow up an entire refinery?” he asked.

 

“ _In_ ,” she said, frowning.

 

“What?”

 

“It didn’t blow _up_ ,” she said.  “It blew _in_.  It was an implosion.”

 

His frown would have stopped a lesser person.  But Peggy Carter was not a lesser person.  And she was not afraid of Steve Rogers’ frowns.

 

He sighed, smiling brightly as Angie came back with the coffee. He waited until she left. “I suppose I should consider myself lucky that you owned up to it.”  He sighed.  Peggy had that effect on him these days.  “Howard has his problems,” he said.  “But he’s no traitor.”

 

“Yes,” Peggy said dryly.  “I came to the same conclusion.  However, I am decidedly in the minority within the SSR.  The chief did manage to insinuate that I was both your _and_ Howard’s lover at the original briefing in front of the entire office.  That was enjoyable.  Honestly, I had no idea I was so appealing. To think what I could have accomplished if they’d only set me loose on the Germans.  I could have been Mata Hari in reverse.”

 

Steve shook his head.  “They executed her, you know.”

 

He was clearly irritated on her behalf over her treatment at the office.  But they’d already had this argument too.  She forbade him to intervene in the SSR office politics any more than he already had.  She could take care of herself and her own reputation.

 

“Thompson said there was a blonde,” he said.  “At Spider Raymond’s club.  Everybody’s looking for her.  I saw the pictures.  She has matching scars on the back of her right shoulder.”

 

Peggy met his gaze.  She sighed and considered lying.  Clearly, she wasn’t blonde, but he was right about the scars.  Of course.  He’d been there when she got them.  She nodded.

 

“Dammit, Peggy,” he started.  “I know you’re trying to do right by Howard, but if they catch you, they’ll hang you for treason.”

 

Peggy blinked back tears, shaking her head.  She didn’t need a lecture from him about how poorly she had handled this op.    _She knew_.  And it was already so much worse than he even suspected.

 

“There was a man,” she said thickly.  “An assassin.  A Russian with a laryngectomy.  He followed me from the club.  He ... mistook my roommate for me.”

 

Steve watched her in silence.

 

“Colleen is dead,” Peggy said quietly.  “ _Because of me_.”

 

Steve scrubbed a hand over his face, going pale.  “Damn,” he said quietly.

 

“I have no place to stay,” she said.  “I slept at one of Howard’s love nests last night.  I pray I didn’t inadvertently catch something.”

 

He looked unhappy.  Too bad.

 

“Angie,” she nodded toward Angie, “has offered to recommend me at the place where she lives.  But I’ll only put them in danger as well.”

 

“Stay with me,” Steve said.

 

She frowned at him.

 

He shrugged.  “How many times did we have to bunk down together on missions, Peggy?” he asked flatly.  “We can share an apartment.  I'm never there anyway.  And who do you think is more likely to be able to handle themselves if something follows you home from work?  Angie, or me?”

 

She sighed, cradling her head in her hands.  She knew she couldn’t accept Angie’s offer.  It would put Angie in too much danger.  And she couldn’t continue staying at Howard’s residences.  Questionable hygiene aside, the SSR were eventually going to stake out all of his real estate holdings and they absolutely could not find her in one of them.  She would hang.

 

She hated it when Steve was right.  Of several horrible choices, his option was the least terrible.  And it needn't last long.  Only until she could find a place of her own. While she did still harbor some niggling protective intentions toward him, she felt significantly less guilt putting him in harm’s way than Angie.  He did sign up for this.

 

“Fine,” she said, irritated at how relieved she felt.

 

* * *

 

 

The apartment was small and incredibly tidy, and not - as Peggy had assumed - in Brooklyn.  It was in Manhattan, not far from the SSR offices.  It had a small kitchen, living room and dining room.  There was one bedroom with a double bed, and a sofa in the living room.  Steve was gone, but he’d left a note indicating she should take the bed since he was usually only around a day or two a week.  He said he would take the couch.

 

On principle, she he hated to put him out, but she also wasn’t going to sleep on that lumpy couch when there was a perfectly good bed sitting empty.  The first night, she tried to ignore the fact that it smelled like him.  And that she was so terribly familiar with his smell that she could recognize it on a pillow.

 

She lay there in the dark, trying to figure out how she got to this point.  She had loved him so much that his disappearance nearly destroyed her.  She was too afraid these days to examine her emotions toward him.  She was concerned she would discover she still loved him with the same crushing intensity.  

 

Regardless of her feelings toward him, it didn’t matter.  It was over between them.  She’d ended it and she wasn’t going to look back.  One day he would thank her for it.  Even if the decision had led to months of hostilities between them.

 

But somehow in the last several days, she and Steve had gone from barely being able to manage a civil word - okay, so that was on her end, Steve had always been perfectly polite - to  sharing an apartment.  Yes, there were extenuating circumstances what with Howard being accused of treason.  

 

But it was  ... she hadn’t imagined ever lying in his bed again, even in such a platonic way.  It just re-opened all those wounds that she thought were finally starting to scab over.  She thought staying with him was such a practical decision, but she was realizing that this had the potential to turn into an epic disaster.

 

Angie seeing them together hadn’t helped either.  As if Captain America hadn’t been a big enough celebrity during the war, after his disappearance and subsequent rescue six months later, Steve was more recognizable than ever.  It was one of the reasons most of his ops were abroad.  He couldn’t exactly keep a low profile in New York.  He could have found somewhere more off the beaten path to live.  But Steve wanted what he wanted.  And he wanted to be _home_ , which, apparently, meant New York.

 

After seeing them together, it had taken Angie about two seconds to put together Peggy Carter and Betty Carver.  So far, Peggy had managed to deflect her questions, but she suspected Angie would not be easily dissuaded.

 

Peggy never thought she would be relieved to be running her own secret op under the nose of the SSR, but it beat the hell out of having to deal with her disaster of a personal life.

 

* * *

 

 

Peggy flinched as Mr. Jarvis threaded the needle through her skin.  “You’re quite good at that,” she said to him, resting her head against her fist, looking down at him as he knelt on the floor of Steve’s once tidy little apartment.  Mr. Jarvis had some asinine reply about Howard’s zippers that just reminded her that her efforts on Howard’s behalf weren’t entirely noble.  Howard may not have been a traitor, but he was a pig.

 

“You’re very fortunate, you know,” Mr. Jarvis said, frowning.

 

“Missed the bone by three inches,” Peggy replied cheekily.

 

He looked displeased.  “That’s not what I meant.”

 

“Then look me in the eye and said what you meant,” she snapped.

 

He met her gaze, undeterred by her warning tone.  “You’re very fortunate that I ignored your instructions,” he said, clearly cross with her.

 

“Oh you’re so right,” she snapped.  “How I managed to stay alive before I met you, I have no idea.”

 

He shook his head wearily.  “I can’t tell if you’re being arrogant, or ignorant,” he said soberly.

 

She screwed her eyes shut, frowning.  “Both, I imagine,” she admitted.  Mr. Jarvis’s help this evening had indeed saved her. It wasn’t a comfortable feeling, relying on someone, knowing they were putting themselves in harm’s way for her.

 

Mr. Jarvis looked up at her, removing his glasses.  “Your line of work requires support, people who care about your well being, who will be there to stitch up your wounds.”

 

“If I allow people to get close to me, I’m putting them in danger,” she said tightly.

 

“So your solution is to remove yourself from the world you wish to protect?” he asked quietly.  “Where’s the sense in that?”  He seemed to notice his hand was resting on her leg and he immediately pulled it back.  He looked at the wound, the blood.  

 

He took a deep breath.  “There is not a man or woman, no matter how fit he or she may be, who is capable of carrying the entire world on their shoulders.”

 

The answer was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t say it.   _Wouldn’t_ say it.  Which was just as well considering that merely thinking about him seemed to summon him like some specter.  Steve didn’t bother knocking.  Why would he?  It was his apartment.  He stepped inside the door and stopped, looking at Peggy’s exposed thigh, Mr. Jarvis kneeling on the floor beside her.  

 

Mr. Jarvis was on his feet in a flash, turning to face the door, back ramrod straight.  “Captain Rogers, I presume,” he said, holding out his hand.

 

Steve shut the door and crossed the room, his gaze fixed on Peggy’s thigh and the blood.  Absently, he shook Mr. Jarvis’s hand.

 

“On that note,” Mr. Jarvis said, “I shall see myself out.”

 

Peggy glared after him.  Coward.  She sat there, defiant, chin sticking out, daring Steve to say something.  He sat down on the couch, looking at her thigh.  

 

“Is that,” he started carefully, “a bullet wound?”

 

“A graze,” she replied sharply.  “Hardly needed the stitches.  Mr. Jarvis is just overly cautious.”

 

Steve opened his mouth to say something and then shut it, frowning.  She knew he wanted to ... well, she wasn’t sure, what, exactly.  But he wanted to do something.  Yell at her, forbid her to help Howard.  But no claim, or chain of command, existed between them and he could not do that.  So he just sat there, expression stormy.

 

“I’m going to ... go,” he said, his voice perfectly controlled.

 

“Where?” Peggy asked.

 

“I ... don’t know,” he admitted.  “But I need to get out for a while.  I’ll be back.”

 

* * *

 

 

Peggy was in bed when he finally returned, though not asleep.  She’d left the bedroom door cracked and she watched him moving around in the living room.  He’d been at the gym from the looks of it, pummeling punching bags.  He still looked upset.  She rolled over, pulling the covers up to her ear.  She didn’t want to think about Steve being upset because of her.

 

She had mourned him so intensely, for months.  She hadn’t been able to eat or sleep, even when the doctors made it clear it was necessary, not only for her own sake, but for the child she carried.  

 

She blackmailed Howard into taking her with him as he searched, against everyone’s better judgment.  She still didn’t think Howard had forgiven himself for that fact.  In her defense, she thought she was up to it.  She thought she had time.  She thought she had reserves.  

 

As it turned out, she was wrong on all accounts.

 

Howard had narrowed down the search area, far outside of the bounds of what had initially been established.  The military thought it was a waste of time.  But Howard hadn’t gotten to where he was by having bad instincts.  

 

Peggy ignored everyone’s advice and insisted on helping directly with the search.  Being out on the glacier, searching was more physically taxing than she ever could have imagined.  She was already exhausted and weak, her body ungainly and uncooperative.  She hadn’t been able to sleep for weeks.  She could never get comfortable at night and her joints ached terribly.  But she’d served in the war, she’d trained men to die for their cause.  She was made of tougher stuff than that.  

 

She thought.

 

She collapsed.  The day before they found Steve.  The team had to double back for her.  One of the stragglers stumbled across what turned out to be a piece of the bomber’s wreckage, which ultimately led to finding Steve.

 

By the time they got her back to the ship, she was bleeding profusely.  Hemorrhaging.  A placental abruption.  They had state of the art medical facilities on board, in the event that by some miracle they found Steve alive.  But no one had been expecting to have to perform surgery on a heavily pregnant woman mere weeks from her due date.  Those weren’t their areas of expertise.

 

Howard wanted to fly her to New York for treatment, but there simply wasn’t time.  She was losing too much blood.  And they’d only just found Steve’s last known location.  If they left, they risked losing him before they’d even found him.

 

Howard made the call, told the medics to do everything possible for her and the baby.  In the end, they did as much as they could.  They saved her life, which was something of a miracle in itself.  But they couldn’t save the baby.  And Peggy would never be able to have children.

 

She lost so much blood.  She didn’t remember them bringing Steve on board.  She didn’t remember anything.  There were flashes, of Howard’s worried face, of the medics.  One of the survey technicians in tears.

 

When she woke, Steve was there.   _Alive_.  By some miracle.  And from the somber look on his face, she knew they had already told him what happened.  She could have killed them for that.  They had no right.  It was her confession to make.  How she’d lost their child.  And someone stole even that from her.

 

Steve hadn’t said anything, he just sat there and held her hand, for days.  She had been a mess, in every sense of the word.  The bleeding would not stop and she required transfusions and a second emergency surgery.  Her milk came in, despite the fact that there was no child to nurse.  She was a leaking, engorged disaster and ended up with a severe breast infection that took weeks to resolve.  She was in so much pain, physical and mental, that it numbed her to everything.

 

She understood she should have felt indescribably joy at Steve’s safe return.  But she looked at him and all she saw were the ways in which she failed him.  He looked so damn miserable.  He lost Bucky.  He lost his child.  And Peggy knew she was no help.  He was back from death’s door and he had to shoulder all the pain by himself.  Even Howard seemed to be keeping a low profile.

 

When they finally arrived back in the U.S., Steve made the funeral arrangements.  Just a priest and some words.  It was a stillbirth.  Her boy had never taken a breath, never cried.  She and Steve laid their child to rest in the same cemetery in Brooklyn where his parents were buried.  There was little information on the headstone.  Just the name Rogers and the year.  Such an inadequate marker to commemorate the end of so many things.

 

Steve had tried.  God, he’d tried.  But she couldn’t let him comfort her.  It was her fault and she knew it.  She’d disregarded all of the doctor’s warnings.  Maybe it would have happened regardless.  But maybe if she hadn’t been on some ship in the middle of the arctic, more could have been done.  Maybe if she hadn’t pushed herself to the point of collapse, nothing would have needed to be done.

 

Howard pointed out that if she hadn’t collapsed when and where she did, they may not have found Steve at all. But Peggy didn’t believe that.  She knew.  She knew it was on her.  She knew this was her own doing, with its own built-in punishment.  She lost one child and now she could never have another.  Steve deserved more than a broken, barren partner, who had been so reckless with his child’s life.  

 

She pushed him away, returned the ring he gave her when she first told him, before he disappeared in the ice.  He had been so angry, so upset.  And she had been utterly unable to offer any comfort.  There was nothing left in her to comfort him.  It was a bitter parting.

 

She went to work in the SSR office, fetching files and coffee, taking lunch orders.  Listening to the jokes about how she’d been Captain America’s _liaison_.  She had wondered more than once if it would have mattered at all, if they had all known the full truth of it.  If they had known without a doubt that she and Steve had been lovers, that she had fallen pregnant, and he proposed.  That after he disappeared, she lost their child and nearly died in the process, on a frozen ship in the arctic circle.  What if they had seen the scar that bisected her abdomen and the lonely headstone in the church cemetery.  Would they have felt any empathy for her?  Or would it have made her even more of a joke in their eyes?

 

It didn’t matter.  She never said anything.  All of the tragedy had happened aboard Howard’s private expedition, so there were no military records to be surreptitiously read for gossip.  So she took the jokes and she took the lunch orders.

 

She was shocked when Steve transferred to New York, several months after her.  She expected him to remain with the military, but he retired and Phillips immediately scooped him up, positioning him outside the official SSR chain of command so he was essentially free to set his own schedule and priorities.  He could have gone anywhere.  But he didn’t.  He joined the New York office.

 

She considered transferring, but decided she wasn’t going to let Steve scare her off.  They were adults and could conduct themselves as such.  The locker room chatter around the office improved quite a bit when Steve made it clear that things between them were strictly professional.  It wasn’t a difficult sell.  They’d hid their emotions from one another, and their chains of command, for years.  Hiding it around the water cooler was nothing new.

 

Peggy thought she had everything worked out.  Everything compartmentalized.

 

Except now she was sleeping in Steve’s bed and he was spending his evenings destroying punching bags because he was so upset about her.  Or _with_ her.  She didn’t even know anymore.

 

END CHAPTER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried, but I cannot find a definitive answer for when the term Placental Abruption was coined. I have no idea if it was in use in the 40s. Clearly the condition was, even if the terminology was not.


	3. Chapter 3

“Hey, Carter.”

 

Peggy smiled, taking a seat in the observation room.  “Good morning, Daniel.”  On the other side of the glass, Jack was questioning Mr. Jarvis about Howard’s missing car and its involvement in the Roxxon implosion.  So far Jack hadn't resorted to violence, but it was his favored interrogation technique.

 

But rather than his fists, Jack went for Mr. Jarvis’s immigration status, his military service, his wife.  Peggy had to do something before Mr. Jarvis cracked.

 

She grabbed the stolen car report and handed it back to Dooley in front of Mr. Jarvis, effectively securing his release.  Of course, Chief Dooley assumed she was just incompetent.  Even Jack and Daniel looked disgusted with her.  The ruse was necessary, of course, to free Mr. Jarvis, but oh did it wound her pride.

 

* * *

 

 

That evening, she and Mr. Jarvis tracked through the sewers, tracing the escape route the thieves had taken with Howard’s stolen inventions.  They ended up at the docks, on a boat with a symbol that matched the one scrawled by the dead man.  They found the majority of Howard’s missing inventions and Peggy was about to call it in when Mr. Jarvis started questioning her, pushing her to admit that she had no way to explain her involvement.

 

“Do you see the day I’ve had?” she swore.  “I will call them in and they will respect me.”

 

“But they won’t,” Mr. Jarvis said.  “They’ll only use it to tear you down.  If you wish to clear Mr. Stark’s name, you must do so from the shadows.”

 

She was simultaneously so angry, disgusted and thankful.  Mr. Jarvis was right, about everything.  She couldn’t explain her involvement in recovering the items without implicating herself as one of Howard’s co-conspirators.  Any good she did would be claimed by someone else and she would be written off as a footnote, either the daft whore or the witless damsel in distress.

 

“There’s a phonebox across the street,” she said.  “Call it in.  And for God’s sake, don’t let Krzeminski get ‘hold of it.  Sousa’s working the office tonight.  I can almost stomach him getting the credit.”

 

* * *

 

 

Peggy sat on the bed in her nightgown.  There were bruises forming along her arms and across her back from the fist fight.  All in all, she still fared better than Mr. Jarvis.  But her knuckles were bloody and her hands ached.

 

More than that, her pride and her heart ached.  All she did and she could never take the credit.  She could never get an ounce of respect from any of her colleagues because they all thought she was a joke.  She found herself actually longing for the war, where it was assumed that she was an integral member of the team.  Colonel Phillips, Steve, the fellas, Howard, they had all respected her without question.  Howard was a pig, but he’d never insinuated she wasn’t damn good at her job.

 

She heard the key in the door and she reached for her robe, trying to shrug into it.  She wasn’t quick enough.  Steve stood in the doorway to the bedroom, looking at her.  He didn’t ask if he could come in, he just crossed the room to her.  He pressed his knuckles gently against her chin, nudging her to tilt her head back.  There was a nasty bruise on her neck from where that ape had pressed the pipe against her throat.

 

Steve knelt on the floor in front of her, his fingertips trailing over her knuckles.  His face was tight, his expression unreadable.  “The call came in just as I got into the office,” he said, shaking his head.  

 

“The call?” she asked, brow furrowed.

 

He looked at her and then winced when he realized she didn’t know what he was talking about.  “Krzeminski’s dead,” he said.  “Shot, along with the witness.”

 

“ _What_?” Peggy asked, astounded.  She’d just seen Krzeminski.  He’d been fine.  The prisoner had been subdued.  “How?”

 

Steve shook his head.  “They don’t know yet.  Looks like a single shooter.  Execution style.  Ambushed them at a railroad crossing.”

 

Peggy shook her head.  “I don’t understand - “

 

Steve caught her face gently in his hands and kissed her.  She was so shocked she went perfectly still.  His lips moved against hers, softly, one of his hands cupping her jaw as the other threaded through her hair.

 

She couldn’t remember the last time she was so close to him.  The taste of him, the smell of him.  Her hands rested against his chest.  She leaned into him, kissing him back, her hands fisting in the material of his shirt.  

 

She so desperately needed an ally, a soft place to land.  But more than that, she needed _him_.  Steve.

 

He was gentle, so gentle, pulling her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her.  He touched her like she was made of spun sugar.  He kissed along her jaw to her ear.  “ _Peggy_ ,” he whispered.  “I missed you so much.”

 

She screwed her eyes shut, tears leaking out as she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his neck.  His hands were mindful of her bruises.  She wanted to weep for the familiarity of his embrace, for the feeling of being cherished.  She’d had no idea how desperately she missed it.  Despite all the pain and history between them, she knew she would never feel as safe as she did with Steve.

 

He finally pulled back, looking at her.  She swallowed thickly and nodded. With her in his arms, he stood and gently placed her on the bed before turning and quickly dousing the lights.  He joined her on the bed, kissing her, undressing them both slowly.  

 

She hadn't done this.  Not since before everything, before he went missing, before she collapsed, before the surgeries.  Steve was slow and deliberate, mindful.  She had forgotten so much.  Forgotten how his skin felt beneath her fingers, forgotten how incredibly warm he was, forgotten how much she needed him.  She was worried that it would feel wrong, that she might not feel any desire, but that wasn't the case.  It was different and unfamiliar at points, but they still fit together the same way.  He still knew how to make her burn for him.

 

Afterward, he held her, his arms banded across her chest so tightly it was hard to breathe.  She wouldn’t have traded it for the world.

 

* * *

 

 

Steve woke before her, as usual.  He didn't need much sleep.  He was awake and the coffee was brewing when there was a knock on the door.  Peggy was dimly aware of Jack’s voice, which had her frowning before she’d even opened her eyes.

 

" _Oh_ ," Jack said, sounding truly shocked.  "I didn't realize you had company."

 

Whatever Steve’s reply was, she didn't hear it.  Steve walked over and firmly shut the bedroom door, effectively hiding her, effectively shutting Jack out of his business.  Peggy lay there wondering what Jack Thompson would do if she got up and walked out of Steve Rogers’ bedroom.  Would he even be shocked?  Or would it be exactly what he was expecting?

 

She heard the apartment door close and a minute later, Steve opened the bedroom door, standing there, looking at her.  She rolled over and looked at him.

 

“They’re gonna be on a rampage,” he said quietly.  “Out for Howard’s blood.  They blame him for Krzeminski’s murder.”

 

Peggy sighed, heartsick over all of it.  Krzeminski was an idiot and a pig, but he hadn’t deserved to be murdered.  Regardless, Howard hadn’t had anything to do with it.  She’d already known she would have an uphill battle with the rest of the SSR to get them to see the light.  Now it would be even worse.

 

Steve sat down on the bed, looking down at her.  They hadn’t discussed what last night meant.  She didn’t really want to talk about it now.  Nothing, and everything, had changed between them.  She forgot what it was like to rely on him, to have someone share the burden, the guilt, the pain.  

 

It was as terrifying as it is was a relief.

 

“I’m supposed to be heading to Washington today,” he said.  He looked at her.  “Do you want me to stay?”

 

“I’m perfectly capable of handling it myself,” she immediately snapped.  Habit. She cringed.

 

He sighed, but didn’t seem shocked.  He just frowned at her.  “Okay,” he said.  “Look, just be careful.  Get in touch with me if you get into trouble.”

 

“Yes,” she said dryly.  “I’ll be sure to let you know if they’re going to hang me.”

 

He looked across the apartment, frowning.  “No one is hanging you,” he said.  “Not while I’m alive.”  He looked down at her.  “If you could stop giving them reasons to want to, though, that would be great.”

 

She stuck out her tongue at him.  He just shook his head.

 

* * *

 

 

Peggy walked through the office, mindful of the somber mood.  She had expected them to mourn Krzeminski, but she hadn’t expected quite this level of shock.  She looked down at Krzeminski’s desk, covered with tributes and was suddenly overcome with the reality of the situation.  

 

“Really puts you back there, doesn’t it?” Daniel asked.  She turned to face him.  “When somebody buys it you realize it could happen any time.  Any day.”

 

Peggy took a deep breath, blinking slowly.  That was so true.  How many times had her entire life changed on a dime?

 

Chief Dooley came out of his office to remind them all that this was Howard’s fault.  Jack and Daniel shared theories that Krzeminski had been targeted, the anonymous call had been a set up.  Peggy was completely at a loss.  And plagued with fresh guilt.  

 

She should have been the one in that car.

 

* * *

 

 

That evening, Peggy went into the L&L Automat for the first time in a week.  Angie was understandably cool, but when she realized how profoundly upset Peggy was, she immediately warmed.

 

“I don’t know why it’s hit me so hard,” Peggy said.  “We weren’t close.  He was a brute, a cheat.  He was disrespectful, rude.  But he was good at his job.”

 

“I’m really sorry, honey,” Angie said.  “What can I do?”

 

In the background, one of Angie’s regulars was clamoring for a refill.

 

“Do you still have the schnapps?” Peggy asked.

 

Angie smiled.  “Let me get this jerk his refill and I’ll clock out.”

 

* * *

 

 

Angie looked around the apartment.  “Not bad, English,” she said, nodding.  “How’d you manage to score this place?”

 

Peggy looked around.  “Uh ... I’m rooming with a friend,” she said.  “Temporarily.”

 

Angie arched an eyebrow and opened the coat closet near the front door.  Peggy knew what was in there.  Coats.  Some clearly belonging to someone significantly taller, heavier and more male than she was.  Also, probably a red, white and blue shield, assuming Steve hadn’t taken it to D.C. with him, and she couldn’t imagine why he would have.

 

Angie nodded and shut the door.  Peggy grabbed two glasses out of the kitchen cupboard and set them on the coffee table.  She toed out of her shoes and sat down on the lumpy couch, propping her head up on her fist.

 

Angie sat down, placing the bottle of schnapps next to the glasses and turned to look at Peggy.  “So, a friend, eh?” she said.  She looked through the open bedroom door.  “Looks like there’s only one bed.”

 

“Steve sleeps on the couch,” Peggy said quietly.  “ _Usually_.  When he’s here.  He’s often not here.”  She honestly had no idea if she wanted to talk about it or not.  She couldn’t remember the last time she confided anything in a girlfriend.  

 

Angie shook her head and slipped out of her own shoes, pulling her legs up under herself.  “English, are you seriously trying to tell me that you’re just roommates with Captain America?”  She waited for a reply, but when none was forthcoming, she continued, “I saw how he looked at you the other day.  That wasn’t a look that a guy gives to a friend.”

 

Peggy sighed and reached for the bottle of schnapps, pouring several fingers for both herself and Angie.  She handed Angie the glass.  They sat there in silence for several moment and finally Peggy took a deep breath.  “We were engaged,” she said.  “I broke it off.”  She took a large drink.  “It’s a long and horrible story.”

 

“You still love ‘im,” Angie said quietly.

 

Peggy looked at her and smiled sadly.  “I do,” she said, shaking her head.  ”For a while I thought I could just outlast it, get over it.  But something changed last night, after the accident with my co-worker.”

 

“Remind you that you could lose him?” Angie asked.

 

“ _Again_ ,” Peggy clarified.  “It reminded me that I could lose him _again_.  I already lost him once.”  She winced.  "Twice."

 

Angie frowned, looking down into her glass.  “So you two?  You were together when he went missing?”

 

Peggy nodded.

 

“Oh, honey,” Angie said.  “I can’t imagine.  We were all messes.  You should have seen the girls at my auditions.  Not a single dry eye for weeks.  I can’t imagine what it must have been like if he was your guy.”

 

Peggy shook her head.  “No one knew.  It was all very hushhush.”

 

Angie just frowned.  “Even worse then,” she said sadly.  She took a deep breath.  “He seems like a real stand up guy.”

 

Peggy nodded.  “He is.  And loyal to a fault.”

 

“Not bad lookin’ either,” Angie said, taking a drink of the schnapps.  

 

Peggy couldn’t disagree with that logic either, though truthfully, it was the least of his appeal at the moment.  It was the sheer solid weight of him in her consciousness that she needed.

 

“So, your, uh, co-worker, the one who had the accident.”

 

‘Yes,” Peggy said, nodding.  “Ray.”

 

“I know you don't work at the phone company, English," Angie said.  "I don't think there are a lot of fatalities on the switchboard."  She paused.  "Is that how you met him?  Captain America?  At Work?”

 

Peggy looked at her.  “I knew Steve during the war.  There is some truth to Betty Carver.  We worked together closely.  Though there was no swooning.”

 

“Yeah,” Angie said.  “I can’t imagine you swooning.”  She took another drink.  “So you’re military?”

 

“Something like that, yes,” Peggy replied.  

 

Angie nodded, seeming to take it all in stride.  Though the breadth of Angie’s life experience never failed to shock and amuse Peggy.  

 

That night, Angie ended up sleeping on the couch.

 

END CHAPTER

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a side note, this quote from The Departed always reminds me of Steve in regards to Peggy:
> 
> Colin Sullivan (Matt Damon) to Madolyn (Vera Farmiga): _If we're not gonna make it, it's gotta be you that gets out, cause I'm not capable. I'm fucking Irish, I'll deal with something being wrong for the rest of my life._
> 
> Not the most flattering comparison, I know and yet ... there it is.


	4. Chapter 4

Howard made a face as Peggy showed him into the apartment.  No doubt, it was considerably less luxurious than he was accustomed to.  However, there weren’t SSR agents staking it out, unlike all of his real estate holdings.  What was he thinking coming back to New York when everyone was after him?  It made no sense.

 

“This is ... cozy,” he said, looking over at Peggy.  “You and Rogers share?”

 

“You can have the couch,” Peggy said, in no way deigning to explain her and Steve’s sleeping arrangements to Howard.  It was nearly dawn anyway.  Peggy wasn’t going to have time to catch any sleep before heading into the office.  And Steve was somewhere in eastern Europe.

 

* * *

 

 

Once at the office, Peggy suffered through Jack’s abysmally ham fisted and overly sentimental pep talk.  His directive for her to take lunch orders turned out to be helpful in that it gave her the opportunity to visit the SSR’s research team and take photographs of Howard’s inventions.

 

Back at the apartment, she and Howard scrutinized the pictures.  There was one invention Howard was intent on, the Blitzkrieg Button.  He gave Peggy a mock up, which she could switch out with the real thing.

 

“I’m already a traitor, Peggy,” Howard said earnestly.  “Don’t let me be the guy who shut down the greatest city on the planet.”

 

* * *

 

 

Peggy and Mr. Jarvis headed back to the SSR office, regardless of the late hour.  Mr. Jarvis would make a terrible poker player.  His tell was so depressingly obvious.  So when he started using it during their conversation, Peggy knew something was up.

 

Howard had seemed so sincere about the danger of his inventions earlier that she hadn’t really questioned.  She had no trouble believing that Howard created monstrous devices which he never intended to let loose.  But there was something different about this one.  It didn’t shock her that Howard didn’t trust the SSR with it, but the fact that he didn’t trust _her_ with it, after all she’d done for him, set her nerves on edge.

 

“Howard came back to New York for this one invention, correct?” she asked Mr. Jarvis.

 

Mr. Jarvis sighed.  “It was a risk he knew he had to take.”

 

“You don’t think he’s planning on using the device himself to wipe out a city’s electricity, do you?” she asked.

 

He turned to look at her.  “Of course not.”

 

“At least the Blitzkrieg Button isn’t like nitramine.  If I was to accidentally activate it, no one would get hurt,” she said, fishing.

 

On cue, Mr. Jarvis grabbed his ear.  “Just bring the device back as fast as you can, Ms. Carter, and then we can all stop worrying.”

 

* * *

Once at the office, Peggy snuck into the lab and switched the decoy for the real Blitzkrieg Button device.  But rather than doing as Mr. Jarvis said and rushing it back to Howard as quickly as possible, Peggy took a detour to one of the storage rooms.

 

She removed the device from her bag, looking at it.  If it was what Howard said, she was running the risk of melting down the power grid for New York, plunging the entire city into unrelenting darkness.  

 

If Howard was telling the truth.  

 

But Peggy knew in her heart that Howard wasn’t being truthful.  Whatever this was, it wasn’t designed to melt down power grids.  It was something precious to Howard, something he didn’t want anyone to have.

 

She studied the single switch and after some hesitation and a deep breath, pushed the switch.  The top popped open and a single vial in cold storage was revealed.  She looked at it and then reached in, extracting the vial.  She stared at in the dim light, at the reddish fluid contained within.  She looked at the label, _BR01_45._

 

Peggy’s hands shook and she had to concentrate to replace the vial.  She shut the device and placed it back in her bag.  Some part of her knew exactly what the vial contained, and so help her, if she was right, she was going to murder Howard Stark.

 

She crept out into the hallway and had a near miss with some of her co-workers.  She ducked into an interrogation room, irritated beyond belief to discover it was not empty, as she had thought.  She found Jack Thompson inside, rooting through the trash for a bottle of scotch.

 

So was so upset, so distracted that most of the conversation was a blur.  But one thing stuck out, Thompson’s assurance that she was not an agent, but a secretary  She knew that wasn’t true, but it still stung.  

 

She was an agent.  She was running her own investigation to clear the name of Howard Stark, a man she had viewed as both a friend and an ally.  But if he had done what she thought he had done, she had one less ally on her already sparsely populated side.

 

“You’re hiding something,” Jack said, watching her.

 

“And what is that?” she asked, certain she didn’t want his insights into the matter.

 

“The natural order of the universe,” he said with a smile.  “You’re a woman.  No man will ever consider you an equal.”

 

She stood there, unexpectedly gutted.  A woman.  Her only value to a man was her ability to soothe his hurts, to produce his children.  And she had already failed spectacularly on those accounts, hadn’t she.  Unwanted tears pricked at her eyes.

 

“It’s sad,” Jack said, actually seeming to have some empathy for her, “but it doesn’t make it any less true.”

 

She sighed, more disgusted with herself than with Jack.  “I can always come to you for the truth,” she said.  “Goodnight.”

 

* * *

 

Howard rose to his feet when she entered the apartment.  He was nervous, anxious and alone.  Steve wasn’t back yet.  “You get it?”

 

She approached him slowly, calmly.  She set the bag carefully in a chair.  “What’s in the vial?”

 

Howard flinched.  “What vial?”

 

“ _What_ is in the vial?” she repeated, her voice still perfectly calm, although she was shaking.

 

“You opened it,” he said, blustering.  “You know how dangerous that could be?”

 

“What’s in the vial, Howard?” she snapped.

 

“Okay,” he said gently, placating, holding out his hands, “you’re angry.”

 

“I’m not angry,” she said, shaking her head, stepping closer to him.  “I’m just curious.  What’s in the vial?”

 

His eyes were shiny and he looked ashamed, his expression pleading.  “You know,” he said sullenly.  “We both know.”

 

“I don’t,” she said tightly.  “Tell me.”

 

He looked at her for a long time, meeting her gaze, but clearly upset.  “Your baby’s blood.”

 

She launched herself at him, hitting, yelling, kicking.  She knew.  She knew when she saw the sample what it was.  Her baby’s blood.  Her boy’s blood.  The baby who never breathed, never cried, and Howard dared to desecrate his helpless little body.  To take a sample, like he was some medical experiment and not the child she had carried and loved and lost.

 

Howard tried to shield himself, but he didn’t fight back.  She backed him against the wall, hitting him as hard as she could, hitting him until her hands ached with it.

 

And then all at once, someone was pulling her back, wrapping their arms around her.  She fought, trying to twist out of their grasp, trying to rip out Howard’s throat.

 

“ _Peggy_ ,” Steve said, holding her close, banding his arms around her, preventing her from moving.  

 

She fought against him, fought to get back to Howard, who was slowly picking himself up off the floor.  His shirt was torn, his face bloodied.  She yelled at him, an articulate sound of rage and pain.  

 

And then the fight went out of her and she slumped against Steve, sobbing.  He loosened his grip and she turned in his arms, burying her face against his chest.

 

“What the hell is going on?” he asked.

 

There was no reply from Howard and Peggy was certain if she looked, he would not be meeting Steve’s gaze.  She finally pulled back, wiping impatiently at her eyes.  She looked at Steve and made a noise that was half laugh and half sob.  She pulled the device out of her bag and showed it to him.

 

“One of Howard’s inventions,” she said thickly.  “I recovered it from the SSR labs for him tonight.  He told me it was designed to melt down power grids.”

 

Steve’s brow furrowed and he looked from Peggy to Howard and back.  Peggy finally looked at Howard.  He was leaning against the wall, curled in on himself like a wounded animal.

 

“I didn’t believe him,” Peggy said bitterly.  “I didn’t believe him, so I opened it and inside I found a vial of blood.”

 

“Blood?” Steve asked, looking at the device.

 

“Our baby’s blood,” Peggy said sobbing.  “Howard had it.  He didn’t want me to know he had it, but it’s the only thing he was determined to recover from the SSR.”  She turned, facing Howard.  “ _What_ were you going to do with it?” she demanded.  “What made you think you had the right to take a sample from his ... from his _dead body_?”

 

Steve’s expression went perfectly cold, blank, as he stared at Howard.  He reached out, bracing his hand against one of the kitchen table chairs.  Moments later, there was a sound of rending metal as it twisted under the strength of his grip.

 

“Get out,” he said to Howard, his voice deadly cold.  “Get out now, while you still can.”

 

Howard didn’t try and talk his way out of it.  He didn’t say anything. He just ran for the door.

 

Peggy and Steve stood there in the apartment.  He reached for her and she went into his arms, holding onto him as she cried.  Tears tracked down his cheeks, but he made no sound, just holding her close.

 

Eventually, they both ended up in bed, fully clothed.  Somehow, Peggy finally drifted off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Steve was awake, but he hadn’t left the bed.  He lay there, quiet, holding her.  This was more than they’d had when it all happened, more than she’d allowed him to comfort her, or allowed herself to comfort him.  The pain was still indescribable.

 

She rolled over and looked at Steve, touching his stubble rough jaw with her fingertips.  He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.  Pulling back, he sighed.  “I think you might have killed him if I hadn’t pulled you off.”

 

Peggy frowned.  “I wanted to kill him.  I wanted his blood.  More than I’ve wanted anything in a very long time.”

 

Steve threaded his fingers through hers, shaking his head.  “Why would he do something like that?” he asked bleakly.

 

Peggy shook her head.  She had no idea.  And even if Howard had the most reasonable, most logical explanation in the world, it was never going to hold sway with her.  He had desecrated her child’s body.  She would never forgive him.

 

She rolled against Steve, tucking her head under his chin.  He held her, his hands trailing over her body.  It didn’t make it okay.  It didn’t.  The pain was still there.  But it was tempered by something else, a connection.  Was this what she had denied them both all those months ago?  The opportunity to grieve together, to offer comfort?  Maybe?  But at the time, it had been unthinkable.  She had been too brittle, too fragile.  If Steve had touched her then, she would have shattered into a thousand pieces.  She wasn’t quite so fragile now.

 

She leaned back, looking him in the eye.  He looked sad, tired.  She kissed him, making the invitation clear.

 

He wasn’t as careful, as measured, as he had been the last time.  But he was still slow, thorough.  She was gasping in pleasure, her fingernails biting into his back when he finally took his release.

 

He rolled over and they lay there, side by side, staring up at the ceiling.  He dragged a hand through his hair.  “I just want you to know,” he said.  “I don’t want to start fighting again and I don’t want to upset you.”  

 

He rolled toward her, propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at her.  “I didn’t ask you to marry me because of the baby,” he said.  “I love you, Peggy.  I will always love you.  No matter what.”

 

She couldn’t respond.  Her throat hurt too much.  She blinked and tears trickled back into her hair.  “I love you,” she whispered.

 

END CHAPTER


	5. Chapter 5

Two days later, Peggy ignored Mr. Jarvis’s overtures on Howard’s behalf, though she did accept a ride.  

 

“Ms. Carter,” Mr. Jarvis said soberly, “I can appreciate your outrage - “

 

“You can’t,” she said flatly.  “Mr. Jarvis you absolutely _cannot_ appreciate my outrage at finding that Howard Stark harvested blood from my child without my knowledge or consent and then chose to hide his actions from me.”

 

Mr. Jarvis looked like he might be sick, but he managed to keep himself in check.  “I don’t believe he meant to keep it a secret from you,” he said.  “But when he saw how terribly distraught you were, how profoundly the loss altered your relationship with Captain Rogers, I don’t think Mr. Stark knew how to broach the subject.”

 

“Yes,” Peggy said bitterly, “so he just chose to do whatever the hell he felt like doing, my feelings and consent be damned.”

 

Mr. Jarvis swallowed thickly.  “Mr. Stark believed the loss was a great tragedy, not only for you and Captain Rogers, but potentially for humanity.  He thought perhaps he could salvage something out of the horror.”

 

“What could he possibly hope to salvage?” Peggy demanded.

 

Shaking his head, Mr. Jarvis said, “For better or for worse, Ms. Carter, Captain Rogers is a wonder of modern science.  But he is such a wonder that his personal genetic code reveals no secrets.  The top scientists in the country have been studying his samples for years and they’re no closer to being able to replicate the benefits he received from the serum.”

 

Mr. Jarvis frowned tightly, and gave her a sad, pleading look.  “Mr. Stark believed that perhaps your child held the key to being able to unlock those wonders.  He thought that perhaps the combination, or your genetics and Captain Rogers might be more accessible, that your child’s genetics held the answers to curing diseases, healing damage, extending human life.”

 

Peggy laughed bitterly.  “My child died in utero, Mr. Jarvis.  He did not hold the key to eternal life and health.  He didn’t even make it to his own birth.”

 

Chastened, Mr. Jarvis looked at his feet.  “No,” he said.  “You are quite right.  But as I said, Mr. Stark thought that perhaps with time he could salvage some good from the tragedy.”

 

“Yes,” she said darkly, “some good that he could patent and sell to the highest bidder.  All the while Steve and I knew nothing of it.”

 

He attempted more explanations, but she ignored him flatly.  Both he and Howard were firmly on her shit list and would stay there for the foreseeable future.  She stepped out of the car and out onto the sidewalk.  She hadn’t gone half a block before Howard cropped up at her side.

 

She glared at him.  It was a ridiculous risk for him to be standing on a Manhattan sidewalk in the bright morning sunlight.  Irritated with herself, she grabbed him and pulled him inside the L&L and into one of the back rooms.

 

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

 

He opened his mouth, searching for words.  “Peggy ... I’m sorry,” he said flatly, frowning.  

 

She just stared at him.  “You had two days and that’s all you could come up with?  You’re sorry?  You disgust me, Howard.”

 

He winced, but stood there.  Her words actually seemed to hit something inside of him, which, frankly, was more than she would have thought him capable of.  Human emotions like guilt and remorse tended to slide off him like water off a duck’s back.

 

“Look,” he said wearily, “I didn’t get where I am by giving a damn what people think of me.  But I do care what _you_ think.  I know I screwed up, Peg.  I know.  I just want to make it right.”

 

She shook her head.  “Why aren’t you talking to Steve about this?” she demanded.  “You two were always closer than you and I.”

 

He looked at her.  “Is that a joke?”

 

She frowned.  “Hardly.”

 

He opened his mouth and then shut it again.  “I’m not talking to Steve because, while I feel awful, I am still rather attached to the concept of living.”  He swallowed thickly.  “You may try and beat me to death, but you’re only human.  I at least have a chance.  Rogers snaps and I’m a goner.”

 

She just shook her head.  Coward.

 

He frowned at her, his brow furrowing.  “You don’t remember,” he said, mostly to himself.  He took a deep breath.  “Peggy, after you lost the baby ... Steve was out of his fucking mind.  And not from being thawed out.  That second surgery you had to have ... if you hadn’t pulled through, I honestly don’t know what would have happened to him.  After everything he sacrificed on the Valkyrie, he was watching his entire world die and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.”

 

She just stood there.  Howard was right, she didn’t remember.  She didn’t remember much of anything from her time on the ship, to be honest.  And as for how Steve had been affected, she truly did not know.  She hadn’t wanted to know.  She could barely deal with her own pain.  She couldn’t take his as well.

 

Howard shook his head.  “I didn’t get you to the help you needed,” he said quietly.  “And that’s on me.  I’m the one who made the decision to keep you on the ship.”

 

“Howard, I was bleeding to death,” she said dryly.  That much, she did remember, quite vividly.  “There wasn’t time.”

 

“Yeah, well, we’ll never know,” Howard said.  “And that’s on me too.”

 

She shook her head.  She was still so angry, so disgusted with him.  “Go, Howard,” she said.  “Find some rock to crawl under until I can clear your name.”

 

* * *

 

 

In the office, things were going considerably better than normal.  Peggy managed to break a code which had stumped the cryptographer for the better part of the morning. And when Dooley and Jack tried to make sure she was excluded from the mission to Russia, she managed to call in a favor with the 107th that secured her spot.  She was on the team and they could all just lump it.

 

She should have known they would be a pack of childish shits about it, though.  Jack orchestrating Daniel walking in on her changing was quite unwelcome.

 

They touched down and rendezvoused with the 107th.  Peggy suspected that Jack thought he would be considerably higher up the pecking order.  This, however, was her territory.  Dugan and the rest of the Howlies were quite accustomed to following her lead.  She knew it killed Jack to bite his tongue and fall in line, but he did, rather than risk displeasing Dugan.

 

The camaraderie of the trip was such a welcome balm to her soul.  Especially in light of Howard’s recent betrayal.  Being surrounded by people who openly supported and cared for her did so much to shore up her flagging spirits.  

 

It was no shock to her when Howard didn’t show.  She knew that entire line of inquiry was a ruse.  The discovery of the training facility and the deadly little girl was deeply unsettling.  They lost Li and Junior.  Ridiculous tragedies which could have been avoided had they not been on a wild goose chase after Howard.  Li had a family.  And Junior was his parents’ only surviving son.  

 

Peggy wasn’t sure what to make of Dr. Ivchenko just yet.  He seemed overly eager to help, which made her suspicious. Peggy pulled Jack’s ass out of the fire, an act for which he seemed mostly ungrateful. Luckily it hadn’t been witnessed by many.  So hopefully his pride wouldn’t be so grievously wounded that he’d be seeking retribution.

 

When she said goodbye to Dugan, he hugged her longer than was necessary, but she appreciated it.  He reiterated his job offer, in the event she ever got sick of New York.  It wasn’t quite as tempting as it would have been a couple of days ago.  Though she did wonder what Steve would think if she took Timothy up on the offer.

 

On the trip home, seemingly without reason, Jack chose to confide in her.  He told her the truth of his supposed bravery during the war, and how it ate at him.  She couldn’t offer him the absolution he wanted, though perhaps that’s why he told her.  She doubted that Jack truly had any desire to be forgiven.  

 

That, unfortunately, was something she understood well.

 

* * *

 

 

Peggy’s shaky truce with Jack remained intact once they returned to the SSR offices.  He freely gave her credit for her actions, in front of Dooley.  She returned the favor.  

 

Daniel, for his part, looked awful.  Like he hadn’t slept the entire time they were away.  When Jack invited him out for a drink, he declined.  Much to her surprise, Jack invited her, claiming he owed her a bourbon - which he did.

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go, Daniel?” she asked.

 

He looked up at her, frowning and then nodded.  “Well, maybe just one.”

 

Daniel was upset and Peggy didn’t know why, but she was concerned.  Of all the men in the office, he was the least mercurial, the least prone to hurt feelings and wounded pride.

 

At the bar, Daniel was quiet, reserved.  Not that he was ever particularly gregarious.  But she felt it was noteworthy.  This time, he did not offer to walk her home, which was just as well.  She had been forced to update her address with payroll.  But it wasn’t common knowledge that she was living at the same address as Steve.

 

When she got back to the apartment, she was surprised to find Steve at home.  He looked up from where he was sitting at the small table, sketching.  She crossed the room to him, running her fingers through his hair as he pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist.

 

“How was Russia?” he asked.

 

“Cold,” she replied dryly.  “Timothy was well.”  She sighed.  “We lost Li and Junior.”

 

Steve looked up at her, frowning tightly.  He stood up, pulling her into his arms, kissing her.  He pulled her toward the bedroom.

 

END CHAPTER


	6. Chapter 6

Chief Dooley was irritated with her, but he was, at least, listening.  Peggy felt like he was finally coming around to the fact that Howard wasn’t directly involved with Leviathan.  And that Howard was the least of their problems.  Peggy found it highly likely that at least one Russian female assassin was on the loose and that she was the one responsible for Krzeminski’s murder.

 

To her shock, Dooley told her to chase her lead while he worked with Ivchenko.

 

The more Peggy thought about it, the more certain she was that Howard had been compromised by one of his many romantic liaisons, and that one of those liaisons had been a Leviathan operative.  Reluctantly, she reached out to Mr. Jarvis and arranged to meet with Howard’s various female companions in the last six months, hoping to find something that could lead them to Leviathan.

 

She was still angry with Mr. Jarvis, but she had to admit to herself that watching him spend the day being repeatedly slapped in the face for Howard’s conduct cooled some of her ire.  She thought perhaps it made him realize that he wasn’t guiltless in abetting Howard’s cowardly ways.

 

It was all going quite well until she and Mr. Jarvis met up at the L&L Automat and Peggy realized they were in the process of being arrested.  She knew it wasn’t going to help her cause, but she really could not be behind bars, not when she was so close to finding Leviathan and clearing Howard’s name.  She got Mr. Jarvis to block the door and she took out the three agents attempting to apprehend her.

 

She and Mr. Jarvis slipped out the back, only to find Jack in the alley, holding a gun.  Jack laid out the case against her, that they’d identified her as being at the club with Spider Raymond, with the nitramine and Leet Brannis, and they caught her red handed with Mr. Jarvis.

 

“I’m so sorry, Jack,” she said, sincerely.  Before taking his gun and knocking him unconscious.

 

She gave Mr. Jarvis instructions on where to meet her.

 

“Where are you going?” he demanded.

 

“Back to the apartment,” she said.  “There’s something I must retrieve.”

 

“That’s a terrible idea,” he said.  “Your residence is the first place I would look for you.  What could you possibly need so badly?”

 

She looked at him, shaking her head.  “The vial of blood in Howard’s invention,” she said.

 

He paled and nodded.  She took off running.

 

* * *

 

 

Steve was at the apartment when she got there and from the look on his face, he knew everything.  Likely, he’d come back to the apartment in the hopes of intercepting her before she could get herself killed.  He didn’t say anything, but he watched her with his brow deeply furrowed.

 

She dug frantically through the closet until she found the bag containing Howard’s Blitzkrieg Button device.  There was a pounding on the door.  Dammit, they were here.  Peggy shoved, literally shoved, Steve into the bedroom, slamming the door shut.  She didn’t have much faith he would stay put, but she could hope to deflect as much attention as possible away from him.

 

The door to the apartment was thrown open and Daniel stood there with Henry and Ramirez, all three armed and visibly upset.

 

“Margaret Carter,” Daniel said, “you’re under arrest for treason, espionage, and aiding and abetting public enemy number one, Howard Stark.”

 

“Please, Daniel,” Peggy pleaded.  “There’s more to this than you understand.”

 

“From where I’m standing, it’s looking pretty cut and dry,” Daniel said tightly.

 

There was nowhere to run, no way she could overpower all of them.  Henry was the type to shoot first and ask questions later.  He’d never liked her.  She’d been shot before and she really didn’t have time for a repeat performance.  She held up her hands and Daniel approached with handcuffs, securing them behind her back.

 

There was a noise and Daniel looked at the bedroom door.  “What’s in there?” he asked, his voice tight, clearly he felt he had been profoundly betrayed by her.  “Is Stark in there?” he demanded.  He walked over to the door and opened it to find Steve sitting on the bed, elbows braced on his knees.

 

“Not Stark, no,” Steve said, rising to stand.  “This is _my_ apartment, Agent Sousa.”

 

Daniel was clearly shocked and took half a step back.

 

“He’s not part of this,” Peggy said.  “Leave him alone.”

 

Daniel looked from Steve back to Peggy.  

 

Steve seemed to take pity on Daniel and he reached for his own coat off the back of one of the chairs.  “We’d probably all better head into the office,” Steve said.

 

Henry and Ramirez looked to Daniel for guidance.  It was clear that none of them knew what to do about Steve.  Should they arrest him as well?  Henry looked down at his handcuffs and then put them back in his pocket, which Peggy felt was a very wise choice.  Steve might appear calm on the surface to them, but she knew he was ready to snap.

 

Daniel motioned to the door and Steve started for it and then stopped.  He walked over to Daniel and plucked the handcuff keys out of his grip.  Steve walked over to Peggy and unlocked the cuffs, moving her hands around so they were in front of her and then locking them again.  He grabbed her coat and folded it in half, draping it over her hands and then grabbed the bag with the invention.  He tossed the keys back to Daniel and walked out into the hallway.

 

* * *

 

 

Peggy sat next to Steve in the back of the car.  Neither of them spoke.  Steve was very angry with her and she understood why.  He’d known this was going to happen.  Truth told, she did too.  But she’d had no choice and Steve had to understand that.

 

When Daniel took her into the office, he marched her right in front of Dooley.  “I can explain,” she said to Dooley.  “All of it.”

 

They took her into the interrogation room and handcuffed her to the table.  Steve followed, though it was clear that nobody had figured out what to do with him yet.  He stood in the corner and waited.  

 

Peggy suspected Dooley was on the line with Colonel Phillips, trying to get to the bottom of Steve’s involvement.  But she also knew that Colonel Phillips never went out of his way to assist people who were trying to wrangle Steve.  Phillips gave Steve a long leash and let him run.  She wasn’t sure what it would take for Phillips to intervene, but she doubted Dooley being irritated would warrant much of a response, especially when Phillips heard that she was Dooley’s target.

 

Daniel laid out the picture of her at the club on the desk, and next to it, Howard’s Blitzkrieg Button.  He questioned her.  It was obvious that Daniel’s sense of betrayal ran deep, far deeper than she had anticipated.  

 

After Daniel’s initial run, they traded off, Daniel, Jack and Dooley.  They tried every tactic.  But they weren’t listening and they were wasting precious time.

 

Dooley held up the Blitzkrieg Button.  “Tell me about this,” he said.

 

She frowned and looked away.

 

She wondered how much worse it would have been had Steve not been standing there, watching.  And she found it interesting that with all of the interrogation tactics, no one had dared ask about their relationship yet.  She had expected there to be more insinuations about her fictitious relationship with Howard, but even those were kept to a minimum.

 

Much to her surprise, there was a break in the action when Mr. Jarvis showed up with a confession from Howard.  They took Peggy out of the interrogation room and put her the conference room with Mr. Jarvis.  Dooley agreed to the terms and fired Peggy on the spot.  

 

Steve was tight lipped.  When the SSR agents vacated the room, he went with them.

 

Left alone with Mr. Jarvis, Peggy found out the truth of just how asinine his plan was.  Howard hadn’t made the confession, Mr. Jarvis had, and as soon as Howard failed to show, it would all fall apart.  

 

But as she and Mr. Jarvis stood there, Peggy noticed Dr. Ivchenko communicating with someone in morse code.  He had a conspirator in the building across the street and they were planning something dire.

 

This was the break she needed.  They had ninety minutes before Leviathan arrived.

 

* * *

 

 

Peggy burst out into the bullpen, notepad in hand.  “The confession is a forgery,” she told Chief Dooley.  “Howard Stark isn’t coming.”

 

“Listen, Agent Carter,” Dooley said.

 

“ _Miss_ Carter,” she corrected, frantic.  “I don’t work here anymore.  But if you want a confession, I am ready to give it to you.”

 

They all filed back into the conference room and Peggy laid it all out as efficiently as possible.  How she’d conducted her entire investigation.  How she found the inventions and called them in. How she unwittingly put Krzeminski in the line of fire.

 

“I didn’t know what would happen to Agent Krzeminski,” she said.  “I could have been more careful.  I am going to have to live with that.”

 

“And why are you telling us this now?” Dooley asked, sounding bored.

 

“Because I need your trust,” Peggy said, “if you’re going to believe me about Dr. Ivchenko.  I know what I saw,” she said.  “He was communicating in morse code with someone across the street.  He was discussing a timetable.  We have less than ninety minutes.  We can’t leave him on his own.”

 

“I’m supposed to believe you pulled off your own investigation without any of us noticing?” Dooley said.

 

“I conducted my own investigation because no one listens to me,” Peggy said.  “I got away with it because no one looks at me.  Because unless I have your reports, your coffee or your lunch, I am invisible.”

 

Daniel and Jack both shifted uncomfortably in their seats.  Steve crossed his arms over his chest, watching.  She knew she had never, in all their time together, been invisible to him.

 

“Your track record with the truth hasn’t been all that hot,” Dooley said, unfazed.  “So if all I’ve got to go on is your word - “

 

“There is one more thing,” Peggy said.

 

At her request, Jack brought in the Blitzkrieg Button.  Peggy looked at Steve and he nodded, lips pursed together tightly

 

Peggy handed Dooley the device and showed him how to open it.  The vial popped up.

 

“You’ll want to be careful with that,” Peggy said quietly.

 

“Why?” Dooley asked, looking at it.  “What is it?  Does this stuff implode?  Explode?  Spice up an Old Fashioned?”

 

Steve stepped up behind her, hand on her shoulder and she leaned back into him.  Daniel and Jack both took notice.

 

Peggy frowned, eyes welling with tears.  “That is the last remaining bit of the child I buried last year,” she said.  “My child, with Captain Rogers.  I lost him two weeks before his due date, on a ship in the middle of the arctic ocean, searching for Steve.”

 

Dooley’s face fell and he looked at her, eyes wide.  Jack and Daniel both paled as well.

 

“Howard believed that if the SSR scientists discovered what it was, that they would squander it trying to recreate Dr. Erskine’s serum.  He thought that it might hold the key to curing diseases, extending life.  So he tricked me into stealing it back for him.  I had no idea at the time what it was.  I had no idea he’d taken the sample.”

 

“Is this true?” Dooley asked Steve.

 

“Yes,” Steve said quietly.  “He’s buried in the cemetery at St. Mary’s in Brooklyn, if you want to verify.”

 

Dooley shook his head.  His expression softened.  “So why didn’t you bring it in?  Why didn’t you tell us?”

 

Peggy pursed her lips together as her chin wobbled.  “I suppose I just wanted a second chance at keeping him safe.”

 

Steve’s hand squeezed her shoulder.

 

Dooley took a deep breath and looked at Steve.  “You knew about this?” he asked.  “About her investigation?”

 

“Yes,” Steve said.

 

“And you let her do it?” Dooley pressed.

 

Steve actually laughed, but quickly caught himself.  “I don’t _let_ her do anything,” he said.  “I’m her partner, not her CO.  I knew what she was doing and she was right.  I figured if you guys were any good at your jobs at all, you’d figure it out eventually.  I had exactly the same information as you and I knew what was going on right after the Roxxon implosion.”  He shrugged.  “It took you quite a bit longer than I thought it would to figure it out.”

 

Dooley frowned, his pride obviously hurt.  “So I guess if it comes down to it between your country and your ... Carter, we know what side you’re on.”

 

Peggy turned to look at Steve and his hand moved absently from her shoulder to her waist, pulling her to his side.

 

He shook his head. “There was no conflict of interest,” he said flatly.  “You were all on the same side, working toward the same goal.  You chose not to use your most valuable resource.  That’s just bad judgment on your part.”

 

Dooley shook his head, frowning again.  “So you’re fine with her running around risking her life and her neck for Stark?”

 

“How’s your marriage workin’ out, Chief?” Steve snapped.  “It took me seven months to get her to _talk_ to me again.  She still won’t put the damn ring back on.  I pick my battles carefully.  Her doing her job isn’t up for debate.  Especially when the only problem is that she’s doing hers better than you’re doing yours.”

 

That finally silenced Dooley.  Jack and Daniel looked decidedly uncomfortable.

 

END CHAPTER


	7. Chapter 7

Steve waited in the conference room with Peggy and Mr. Jarvis as Dooley, Daniel and Jack went out into the bullpen to confer.

 

Peggy looked at Steve, arms crossed over her chest.  “She still won’t put the damn ring back on?” she repeated.

 

He just watched her, lips pursed together.  Mr. Jarvis looked like he wanted to crawl under the table, but she assumed he’d seen far worse working for Howard.

 

“I don’t even know where the damn ring _is_ ,” she said.

 

Steve looked offended.  “It’s sitting on top of the dresser,” he said.  “Right next to your jewelry box.”

 

She frowned, looking away impatiently.  “Well,” she said, “how was I supposed to know?  And I can’t very well just put it back on.”

 

“What the hell does that mean?” he demanded.  “Of course you can.  You’re the one who took it off.  I never took back the proposal.  I’m with you until the end of the line, Peggy.  You’re the one who took it off, you’re the one who needs to put it on again.”

 

She wanted to argue with him, but she supposed he rather had a point, irritating though it was.  Unromantic as well, though she could hardly fault him for that.

 

Dooley motioned to Steve and he went out into the bullpen.  Peggy and Mr. Jarvis watched as the bulk of the SSR agents filed out of the office, presumably to check out the building across the street where Ivchenko’s conspirator was located.

 

The agents hadn’t been gone long before Chief Dooley took her and Mr. Jarvis back into the interrogation room.  But what Peggy thought had been a breakthrough was just more bad news as Dooley handcuffed them to the desk.  He was clearly under the influence of Dr. Ivchenko.

 

* * *

 

Peggy and Mr. Jarvis had just successfully smashed out the interrogation room mirror when Steve walked in, frowning at them.  “What are you two doing?”

 

“Where is Chief Dooley?” Peggy snapped.

 

* * *

 

By the time they reached Dooley, it was too late.  He’d donned the armor and was headed for a catastrophic end.  Dr. Ivchenko had already escaped.

 

Peggy was helpless to do anything as Chief Dooley took Jack’s sidearm and then sacrificed himself to save everyone in the office.  Steve grabbed Peggy, shielding her from the blast with his body.

 

In the aftermath, Peggy searched for an explanation for all of it.  What had Ivchenko and Leviathan been searching for?  She found the sample of blood, much to her relief.  Item seventeen, however, was missing.  Not that they had any idea what item seventeen was.

 

* * *

 

They found out the hard way about item seventeen.  They got the call about the massacre at the movie theater before they’d even started to pick up the pieces from Dooley’s sacrifice.  Peggy, Jack, Daniel and Steve all went to investigate.  The carnage inside the theater was unbelievable.  Those people had ripped each other apart.  

 

Daniel was accidentally exposed to the toxin and nearly throttled Jack.  Peggy tried to pull him off and was rewarded with a fist to the face before Steve was able to subdue him.  If that’s what item seventeen did, then its potential danger was enormous.  They couldn’t allow it to be used on the population.

 

Peggy accompanied Daniel to the hospital and questioned him when he regained consciousness.  He was still in restraints and one look at Steve assured her that Daniel would remain in restraints for the entirety of their conversation.  She thought it was ridiculous, but she didn’t argue.  She did actually know something about picking her battles as well.  Steve sat there, looking like a wet cat, as she questioned Daniel.

 

When they finally got back to the apartment, Peggy shook her head, frowning at Steve.  “Why is it that you can get along perfectly well with that blowhard, Jack, and you’re awful to Daniel?”

 

Steve looked at her.  He looked terrible, exhausted and dirty from the debris at the office and the theater.  “You wanted me to let him bash your head in?” he asked sarcastically.

 

“No,” she said.  “And that’s not what I’m talking about.  I’d think it’s some petty jealousy, but Jack flirts at me more than Daniel and you don’t seem to take offense.”

 

“You don’t like Jack,” Steve said flatly.

 

Peggy shrugged.  “Well, no, not particularly.”

 

He just held out his hands as if to say, _there ya go._

 

She just stared at him.  “Are you serious?” she asked.  “Captain America is jealous of Agent Sousa?”

 

He frowned and crossed the room to her, standing directly in front of her, looking down at her, his expression grim.  “Seven months,” he said, his voice very measured.  “ _Seven months_ you didn’t speak to me.  And when I joined the New York office, you had nothing but smiles for Agent Sousa.  So, yes.  I’m jealous.  With good reason.  Unless you want me to be like all the other jerks in the office and assume you couldn’t want Sousa because of the crutch.  I know better than most just how willing you are to look past the surface.”

 

She looked up at him and frowned, chastened.  She reached out, running her fingertip over one of the buttons on his shirt.  “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.  “I didn’t intend to ... _toy_ with you.  I just couldn’t - “

 

“I understand why you were upset, Peggy,” he said quietly, his hands finding her hips and pulling her close.  “Believe me.  I understand.  I think maybe I even understand what you were trying to do when you broke it off.”

 

She looked up at him.

 

“ _Maybe_ ,” he clarified, narrowing his eyes at her.  

 

He took a breath.  “But you told me you didn’t want me, you didn’t want our relationship.  And then you went out for drinks with Sousa.  You kissed him.  What the hell was I supposed to think?”

 

She frowned, staring at his chest.  “It wasn’t like that,” she said, trying to find the words to explain.  “I like Daniel.  He’s a good man.  I only kissed him on the cheek.”

 

“You’re not helping yourself,” he said dryly.

 

She looked up at him, her expression sour.  “I _like_ Daniel,” she repeated.  “I _love_ you.  So I understand that you believe there’s some competition, but trust me, there isn’t.  Daniel Sousa is a good man.  And he was a friend.  But he isn’t you.  He isn’t the dance partner I’ve been waiting for.”

 

She took a breath, fixing her eyes on the center of his chest.  “I know it’s cliched and I know the guys were being jerks when they said it to Daniel, but they were right.  I wasn’t going to trade a red, white and blue shield for him.  Not because of his injury.  And not because you’re Captain America.  Do you have any idea how impossible of an act Steve Rogers is to follow?”

 

Steve seemed somewhat mollified, but Peggy knew there would be mountains of work ahead of her to truly mend this rift.  She did what she did to their relationship because it was the only option she could see at the time.  But now, she understood how much pain Steve had been in, how she had abandoned him when he needed her the most.

 

“I love you,” she repeated softly.

 

He ducked his head and kissed her.  She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his neck.  His capacity for forgiveness was far beyond her own, and she was so terribly grateful for that fact.  

  


END CHAPTER


	8. Chapter 8

Peggy showered in the morning, did her hair and makeup, dressed, and looked down at the little box sitting next to her jewelry box on top of the dresser.  She hadn’t been playing coy.  She honestly hadn’t realized that was the ring.  

 

She picked up the box and opened it, plucking the ring out.  It was beautiful.  Simple, but elegant.  For the first time, Peggy wondered when he’d actually purchased it.  At the time, she thought it had been hastily procured on the heels of her announcement that she was pregnant.  She thought he lucked out and found a beautiful ring on a short timeline.  But looking at it now, she knew she’d been wrong.  He had the ring before she made her announcement.  He’d put a lot of thought into it.  She’d just beaten him to the proposal.

 

Peggy took a breath and slipped the ring on her finger.  She stood there, staring at her hand.  She finished touching up and joined Steve in the living room.  He was sitting at the table, looking at the paper.

 

He immediately noticed the ring and looked pleased, but he didn’t say anything.  Peggy walked over to him and he pulled her down into his lap, kissing her.  

 

“I take it you like my jewelry,” she said quietly.

 

He made a pleased sound and nodded, kissing along her jaw.  

 

She hugged him close.  “When did you pick it out?” she asked, pulling back and looking at him.

 

He watched her for a long moment.  “Coupla weeks before Bucky fell,” he said evenly.  “Couldn’t pay for it all at once.  Bucky said it was just as well.  It’d give you time to realize you’d made a mistake before I had to make the final payment. ”

 

Her eyes pricked with tears.

 

He squeezed her.  “Hey,” he said softly, “it was a joke.  Buck meant it as a joke.”

 

“Yeah,” she said, blinking quickly, looking up at the ceiling, willing the tears to subside.  She slumped against him, resting there.  “Do you regret it?” she asked.

 

He looked at her.  “Regret what?”

 

“All of it,” she said quietly.

 

He frowned and then looked at her seriously.  “No.”

 

She stared at him.  “No?" she asked quietly.  "That’s all you’ve got to say?”

 

He sighed.  “The last coupla years have been hard,” he said quietly.  “Really hard.”  He took a breath.  “But there was a real bad influenza outbreak in Brooklyn in the winter o’ forty-three.”  He looked at her, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.  “I shoulda died in that, Peg.  I woulda died in it.  If it weren’t for Erskine and you and Bucky.  That was the fate of Skinny Steve.”

 

She frowned.  “Don’t say that.”

 

He shrugged.  “It’s true,” he said.  “So, yeah, the last coupla years have had a lot of loss.”  He looked at her.  “But also a lot of love.  A lot of wonders I never expected.”

 

A tear tracked down her cheek.  “I’m so sorry I hurt you,” she whispered.

 

His brow furrowed and he wiped away her tear with his thumb, shaking his head.  “Don’t get me wrong,” he said.  “I didn’t like it.  But, Jesus, Peg,” he said.  “I can’t pretend to imagine how it was for you.”  

 

He sighed, searching for words, holding her close.  “I wanted him,” he said quietly.  “I did.   _So much_.  But when I forced the Valkyrie down, he was just an idea to me.  He wasn’t even a _he_.”  He paused, thinking.  “And then when they woke me up, it was already all over.”  

 

He looked at her, his expression soft.  “He wasn’t a part of me the way he was a part of you.  I didn’t lose him the way you lost him.”  He shook his head.  “My only regret is that I couldn’t do anything to help you.  All I could do was watch.  And all of my strength and abilities were useless.  I would have traded everything to be able to help you.”

 

She shook her head, her chin wobbling.  “I just couldn’t -”

 

He pulled her close.  “I know, Peggy,” he said.  “I know.  I’m not angry.  I just felt ... helpless.”  He kissed her, gently.  

 

“I felt like I failed you so completely,” she said quietly.  “First with not finding a way for you to land the Valkyrie, and then not being able to find you, and then losing him.”

 

He shook his head, his expression serious.  “You never failed me,” he said.  “Never.”

 

She gave him a watery smile.  She wasn’t sure she agreed, but she didn’t want to argue with him.  She sniffled, wiping at her wet cheeks.  “Why did you take the job here with the SSR?”

 

He just looked at her.  “How the hell else was I going to get you back?” he asked.  “You wouldn’t take my calls or answer my letters.  I figured that physically putting myself in your way was the only guarantee to get you to interact with me, though you did an admirable job of ignoring me even after I did that.”

 

She looked at him, frowning.  “I was trying to do my job.”

 

“And I fully support that,” he said.  “So long as you come home to me at night.”

 

She pressed her forehead to his and they just sat there for a long time.  Eventually, she pulled back.  “You weren’t particularly easy to ignore,” she said.  “Especially when you started trying to defend my honor.”

 

He looked at her, his expression grim.  “I wanted to rip out some throats.”

 

She smiled.  “I know.  Thank you.  And thank you for not doing that.”

 

He shook his head.  “I just don’t get it,” he muttered.  “You’re the best damn agent in that office.”

 

“I know,” she said, nodding.  “And they will eventually figure that out.”

  
  


* * *

 

Peggy and Steve picked up Daniel from the hospital and they all headed into the office.  Daniel noticed the ring, but didn’t say anything.  Peggy was aware that he kept his distance from her as they walked down the hall.  

 

At the office, Daniel had to endure a good deal of ribbing from Jack, but otherwise he seemed okay.  Peggy thought it was probably a good thing that Jack learned the hard way that Daniel had some bite in him.

 

They were all attempting to get their bearings when Howard and Mr. Jarvis broke in.  Howard, of course, was being a complete ass.  Well, to most people.  He took Steve aside and Peggy assumed he was apologizing.  Steve’s expression was grim, but he shook Howard’s hand.

 

Howard approached Peggy and she punched him again.  To his credit, he took it like a man.  She refused to shake his hand.

 

* * *

 

They took Howard into the conference room and Jack and Daniel took turns taking out their frustrations at him.  To Peggy’s surprise, Howard looked truly remorseful.  He shared everything he knew about the Battle of Finow and another of his abominable creations, Midnight Oil.

 

Originally designed to help soldiers fight fatigue, instead it turned them into raging homicidal murderers.  It mimicked sleep deprivation, anger, hallucinations, psychosis.  It also tended to cause asphyxiation, hence the laryngectomies on Brannis and the Russian assassin.  General McGuinness had stolen Howard’s cache of Midnight Oil and used it in Finow against Howard’s wishes.

 

Midnight Oil had taken out an entire Russian regiment, it had been intended to help.  Help the Russians defeat the Nazis at Finow.  Instead, it led to a massacre with only two confirmed survivors. And then last night, a movie theater full of civilians.  It could have easily killed Agent Sousa and indirectly led to Agent Krzeminski’s, Agent Yauch’s, and Chief Dooley’s deaths.

 

Howard volunteered to be the bait in a trap for Ivchenko.  Peggy objected, but was overruled by everyone.  All of the other agents were busy making arrangements and she got stuck watching Howard.  He insisted on seeing his inventions in the SSR labs and Peggy escorted him there.  After a good bit of theater involving his inventions, he managed to find his prototype body armor.

 

“Unless you’re going to put it on your head, it won’t be enough,” Peggy said flatly.

 

He looked at her.  “I trust you to keep me safe.”

 

“You’re punishing yourself,” Peggy said.

 

“I’m redeeming myself,” he countered.

 

“I have enough blood on my hands,” Peggy said.  “I don’t need yours too.”

 

“I already told ya, Peg, I’ve had to go through my life not caring what people think of me,” Howard said.  “But I do care what _you_ think.  After everything you said to me, and to Jarvis about me - ”

 

“Howard, that doesn’t mean I want you to die,” she said, so frustrated she wanted to shake him.  Yes, she had wanted to kill him when she discovered the vial of blood, but it didn’t mean she wanted him dead now.  There truly had been more than enough death in her life.  She did not wish for any more.

 

“That makes two of us,” he said.  “But you know, and I know, that this is my fault.  I need to fix this.”

 

* * *

 

Howard and Jack had their press conference, which was interrupted, as expected, by gunfire.  But in the aftermath, they discovered it was a setup.  The gun was on a timer and the police escort who whisked Howard away was missing.

 

Peggy stood there with Jack, running through scenarios, trying to determine Ivchenko’s real target.  Peggy noticed the people holding flags.

 

“What day is it?” she asked.

 

“May eighth,” Jack said.  He frowned.  “VE Day.”

 

“They’re going to hit Times Square,” Peggy said.

 

* * *

 

They found the missing police car and Peggy, Daniel, Jack and Steve stood there, comparing notes.

 

“They’re not going to call off the VE Day celebration,” Jack said, shaking his head in disgust.  He’d been on the phone with the organizers, to no avail.

 

“A hundred thousand people,” Steve said, expression tight.

 

“There’s a report,” Daniel said.  “Someone saw a man matching Stark’s description being forced into the back of a black sedan.  There was a sighting of the vehicle near the Lincoln Tunnel.”

 

“They’re leaving the city?” Steve asked.

 

Peggy shook her head.  “Maybe we were wrong about the target.”

 

Steve frowned.  “The target makes too much sense.  A hundred thousand people in one location, by the time they realized it was time to evacuate, it would be too late.  There wouldn’t be time.”

 

“They could have already stashed the canisters,” Daniel said.

 

Peggy shook her head again.  “The gas is designed to be dispersed by air.”

 

“Which is why we shut down all the airports and every private airfield in the area,” Jack said.

 

Steve sighed, shaking his head.  “Not all of them.”

 

“What?” Peggy asked, looking to him.

 

“If Ivchenko wants Howard to take the fall for this, then it’s a safe bet that they’re headed to Howard’s private airfield,” Steve said.  “Grab Jarvis.  Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

Howard’s plane took off just as they arrived.  They all hustled out of the cars, grabbing weapons.  Ivchenko and his accomplice were still here somewhere.

 

“I need someone in a plane,” Peggy said grimly.

 

They all looked at her.  Jack shrugged.  “We’ll have to shoot him down while he’s still over the water.  We don’t have much time.”

 

Daniel shook his head.  “Don’t look at me.  I can’t fly.”

 

“Me either,” Jack said, frowning.

 

“I jump out of planes,” Steve said.  “I don’t fly ‘em.”

 

Mr. Jarvis cleared his throat.  “I do,” he said.

 

Peggy’s stomach dropped.  “Mr. Jarvis, I cannot ask you to do this.”

 

“Mr. Stark would want to be stopped.  By any means necessary,” Mr. Jarvis replied.

 

Peggy nodded.  “Where’s the radio room?”

 

“Upstairs.  Inside,” Mr. Jarvis replied.  “Good luck, Ms. Carter.”

 

“Help him get off the ground,” Peggy said to Jack and Daniel.

 

She and Steve headed inside.  
  


* * *

 

Peggy and Steve found Ivchenko and his accomplice, a striking young woman, just as Peggy predicted, in the radio room.  The woman was clearly an adult version of the little girl they’d run across in Russia.  Same training.  Same skills.

 

Peggy aimed the gun at them, but the woman managed to kick it away, sending the shot wide.  Steve grabbed for her and she hit him with a roundhouse kick.  Peggy watched as they fought.  The woman didn’t have Steve’s superior strength or reflexes, but her training was almost beyond comprehension.  

 

She grabbed a bat and swung hard, catching Steve across the temple, sending him crashing to the floor.  Peggy didn’t think, she ran at the woman.  The woman turned and swung at her, but Peggy ducked and as she came back up, caught the woman with a kick to the midsection that sent her tumbling out the window and onto the hangar floor, two stories below.

 

When the fight was over, Ivchenko was gone.  He’d made a break for it.  Peggy reached for Steve.  There was blood.  Oh, God, there was blood.  He blinked up at her, wincing.  

 

“Are you alright?” she demanded.

 

“I’ve been better,” he said, pushing himself into a sitting position.  “But I’ll live.”

 

There was chatter on the radio.  Howard!  Peggy ran for the radio.

 

Steve was right behind her.  As she reached for the radio, he shook his head, taking the mic.

 

“Howard?” he said.  “Are you there?”

 

“Steve!” Howard said.  “Steve!  I’m almost there.  I’m going to get her to help.  The best medical facility in the country.”

 

“Who, Howard?” Steve asked.  “Where are you?”

 

“I can almost see the city,” Howard said.  “I’ve got Peggy.  She’s weak, but I’m almost to help.  I think she’ll be okay.  I think we can save the baby.”

 

Peggy’s heart constricted and tears burned her eyes.  Oh, God, Howard. _No._  She grabbed Steve’s shoulder.

 

“Howard,” he said.  “You have to listen.  You have to turn back.  Innocent people are going to die if you don’t.”

 

“Ms. Carter,” Mr. Jarvis said on the other radio.  “Are you there?  I have Mr. Stark’s plane in my sights.  We’re one mile from land.  Ms. Carter, should I take the shot.  Ms. Carter?”

 

“No,” Peggy said to Mr. Jarvis.  “We need more time.”

 

“We don’t have more time,” Mr. Jarvis yelled.

 

“Do _not_ take the shot until I tell you Mr. Jarvis,” Peggy yelled, crying.

 

Steve shook his head.  “Howard, turn the plane around.  Come back.”

 

“I can save your boy, Steve,” Howard said.  “I can save everything for you and Peggy.  I can make it all right.  All I’ve ever done is create destruction.  Let me fix this.  Let me do something right.”

 

“Howard,” Steve said quietly.  “The baby died.  A long time ago.  We’re okay.  Me and Peggy.  We’re okay.  You don’t need to fix it, Howard.  We’re okay.  Please, just come back.  We’ve both lost so much.  We can’t lose you too.”

 

The silence seemed to stretch out forever.

 

“ _Steve_?” Howard said.  His voice was different.

 

“Howard?” Peggy said, grabbing the microphone.  “Howard, where are you?”

 

“Evidently flying a plane,” he said.

 

Steve grabbed the other mic.  “Mr. Jarvis, stand down,” he said.  “Howard’s okay.”

 

* * *

 

Daniel and Jack had Ivchenko gagged and they stuck him in the trunk of the car, giving Peggy and Steve space.  Mr. Jarvis and Howard approached them slowly.  Howard looked defeated, though Peggy knew he would rally.  It was impossible to keep him down for long.

 

Howard approached her cautiously.  “Peggy, I - “

 

She reached out and hugged him.  He was stiff in her embrace for a moment and then he melted against her, hugging her tightly.  “I’m so sorry, Peg,” he whispered.  “So sorry.”

 

She nodded.  She wasn’t sure she would ever completely forgive him, but there had been so much hurt, so much loss.  The fact that Ivchenko was able to use Howard’s guilt to almost coerce him into committing mass murder.  She couldn’t bear to drag the hurt out anymore.

 

* * *

 

That night, as she lay in bed with Steve, his fingers toyed with her ring.  She looked at him by the dim light filtering through the window.  He pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead.  “You do know that you actually have to marry me this time, right?” he said.  

 

“You were the one who missed the last date,” she said.

 

“ _Peggy_.”  His warning tone was clear.

 

“Yes,” she said, smiling, kissing his collarbone.  “I am planning to marry you.”

 

“Next week.”

 

She looked up at him.  “You in a hurry?”

 

“Yes,” he said flatly.  “Considering how things are going, I am in a hurry.  I’m sick of people speculating what’s going on with us.  At the rate you’re going, I’d like some protection from having to testify against you in court.”

 

She frowned and smacked the back of her hand against his chest.

 

He caught her hand and pressed a kiss to it.

 

END CHAPTER


	9. Chapter 9

The SSR office was still a disaster, windows boarded over, debris everywhere.  Peggy was deeply humbled by her colleague’s appreciation for her efforts.  And deeply unsurprised when Jack took credit with the Senator.

 

Daniel was ready to shoot Jack on principle, but Peggy just shrugged.

 

“I know my value,” she said.  “Anyone else’s opinion doesn’t really matter.”  It wasn’t precisely true, but she _wanted_ it to be true enough that some day it would be.

 

He just frowned at her, clearly frustrated.  He looked at her hand.  “So, I guess you put the damn ring back on,” he said quietly.

 

She looked at the ring and nodded.  “I did,” she said.

 

“You guys set a date?” Daniel asked.

 

She shrugged.  “Soon.  Steve needs to negotiate some changes with Colonel Phillips.  We’re considering relocating.  Possibly somewhere warmer.”

 

Daniel nodded, somewhat sadly, and she understood.  Maybe, in another life, they could have shared something.  But it just wasn’t possible with Steve still in her life.  Even when they were apart, she couldn’t let go of him.  She couldn’t give herself over to something else when she was still so invested in him.

 

“Thank you, Daniel,” she said.  “For everything.”

 

He nodded.  “Any time, Carter.”

 

* * *

 

Peggy did not wear white.  That was a bit much, even for her, who was always willing to buck tradition.  She also opted against red, though just barely.  She settled on a cream colored dress, understated, simple, something she could alter and use again in the future.  They decided to forego a church wedding, especially considering Peggy wasn’t Catholic and wasn’t converting.  Not that Steve had asked her to.  She rather felt that his faith was largely lip service and old habits these days.

 

Steve was actually the one who suggested the Justice of the Peace.  Peggy was all for it.  She thought, quite reasonably, that the wedding would be a very intimate affair, especially considering the short timeline.  But to her surprise there was quite a turnout.  

 

Several of the Howlies made it.  Colonel Phillips.  Jack, but not Daniel.  Angie served as Maid of Honor.  Timothy was Best Man.  Bucky’s mother, and two of his sisters were there, with their pack of children.  Rose from the switchboard.  It was definitely an office heavy affair, but that was the bulk of her life with Steve.  It was offset a bit by Howard and some Hollywood ingenue.  And Mr. Jarvis, of course, who brought his wife.  Peggy hadn’t been sure she actually existed.

 

The ceremony was short and sweet with none of the usual pomp and circumstance.  Peggy did not toss her bouquet.  No one showered them with rice, which was just as well considering their lack of fertility was a very known quantity.

 

The reception, such as it was, was held in the basement of Bucky’s aunt’s restaurant in Brooklyn.  The alcohol flowed freely, encouraging everyone to lighten up.  There was no band, but Howard produced one of his inventions, which actually worked as designed and played music without causing involuntary muscle spasms or melting off anyone’s eyewear.

 

Peggy and Steve had their dance.  Not their _first_ dance, as they had been practicing in the evenings in their apartment.  But their first public dance and certainly their first dance as a married couple.  Steve only stepped on her toes once.

 

Steve pulled her closer, swaying to a slow song.  Howard was dancing with Bucky’s youngest, single, sister.  Jack had commandeered Howard’s ingenue and she didn’t look particularly upset by the turn of events.

 

“What’re you thinkin’?” Steve asked, ducking his head so that his lips brushed the shell of her ear when he spoke.

 

She looked up at him, smiling.  “That it’s about bloody time,” she replied.

 

He smiled in return and kissed her, far more amorously than she would have thought him capable of in such a public setting, though, considering the day, she supposed it wasn’t so shocking.

 

All in all, the day was lovely, even with the few notable absences.  Bucky should have been there.  And, of course, their boy.  But somehow those tender hurts only served to remind them how lucky they were to have each other.

 

* * *

 

 

“You ready?” Steve asked.

 

Peggy nodded, following him out of the apartment.  They were quiet on the way down the stairs and again as they climbed into the taxi.  Steve gave the driver the address and then grabbed her hand, holding it in his own.  He toyed absently with the rings on her finger, as he’d taken to doing in the last several weeks.

 

It was a holiday.  Traffic was light, at least until they arrived at the cemetery.  There were quite a few people there, leaving flowers on graves for Memorial Day.

 

They stopped at Bucky’s memorial site first.  Just a plaque.  No body had ever been recovered, but his family had created the memorial.  The plaque was next to the grave of his elder sister, who had died in infancy.  It was  a stark reminder to Peggy that her pain, while acute, was not unique.  Bucky’s mother had now lost two children.  While she had her remaining girls and a pack of grandchildren, Peggy knew it would never erase those hurts.

 

Slowly, Peggy and Steve made their way to the corner of the graveyard where his parents were buried.  And their child.  Peggy reached down and brushed dried leaves off his headstone.  She and Steve had decided to move to California.  She hated the idea of leaving their boy behind, in the cold winters.  But there was nothing to be done for it.  He was gone.  And she and Steve were both still here.  Together.

 

Peggy stood up and Steve wrapped his arms around her from behind, holding her.  Their marriage had changed nothing and everything about their relationship.  Everyone in the SSR knew their story by now, including the loss of their son.  Peggy wasn’t sure if it made it easier, or harder.  It made her feel exposed, but not weak.  She was coming to realize that vulnerability and weakness were distinctly different things.  And she could miss her boy so deeply, without being defined by that loss.

 

Steve pulled the vial out of his pocket, holding it in his hand.  She took it and carefully opened it before pouring the thin liquid onto the little grave.  She took a deep breath and blinked back tears, turning in Steve’s arms to embrace him.  He held her close, kissing her forehead.

 

Peggy suspected their marriage could be a detriment to her career, if she allowed it, which she wouldn’t.  Steve wasn’t sure he was going to stay with the SSR.  Peggy had no idea what he would do if he left the military entirely, but she had faith he would find purpose.  

 

She’d always had faith in him.

  
END STORY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if Memorial Day was a thing in 1946. I mean, it was around, but I suspect it was quite different from how it is observed now. Wikipedia was not terribly helpful to me with this one. So ... suspend your disbelief please.


End file.
